The Copernicus Archives #2 (2015) - Plot & Excerpts
The limo eased down the block and around a corner to the nearest parking spot. We got out and studied the street. No black cars. No motorcycles. No Hatman. Julian said, “You know what—you go in. We stumbled upon Markus Wolff and the black car, but I want to make sure we’re not being tracked. I’m going to upgrade the software on your phones remotely from the servers at the Ackroyd Foundation in Fleet Street. I’ll snag a cab. The limo will stay. I’ll be right back.” “Sounds good,” said Roald. “We’ll eat at Pret A Manger when we’re done.” Julian gave us a nod, looked both ways, and jogged away. The moment I pushed open the front door of Pucker’s and a bell chimed, the aroma of dry paper overpowered me—tens of thousands of freshly printed and antique books were crammed onto wooden shelves, in teetering stacks on the floor, in skyscraper piles on old oak tables. They were jammed into the window seats, across the aisles, on the stairs leading up, on the stairs leading down, and on every available inch of the cashier’s counter.
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